


Bon Voyeur

by staticlown



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: (after 7th chapter), (mostly on 7th chapter), Dissociation, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, No cheating, Oral/Penetrative sex, Overthinking, Trans Male Character, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:02:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23426674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staticlown/pseuds/staticlown
Summary: Spy is really fond of watching
Relationships: Heavy/Medic (Team Fortress 2), Heavy/Medic/Spy (Team Fortress 2), Medic/Spy (Team Fortress 2)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 114





	1. Chapter 1

Thursday, 19:20  
Same time, same place.

His left hand is on his mouth and his other’s in his pants. He’s long lost count on how many times it’s been by now.   
The very first time, he had went by for a completely different reason.

-

Months ago, 18: 55 

He had finished a pleasant encounter with Medic in his office after a difficult battle in Highpass, and left him to his own devices. However once he had arrived in his room and decided to settle down and have a cigarette break, he had realized that he must’ve left behind his lighter back at the infirmary, a mistake, that he didn’t know whether to detest or appreciate. On his way back, he had indeed, intended to knock first and seek approval to come in of course, apologizing for the second visit of the evening, however, that was until he’d heard the steady gasps of air lightly echoing in the next room and the sound of rocking creaky furniture.

Curiosity did get the better of him. And being a spy, he could allow himself to do what he does best, and that is, well spy.

Although it hadn’t been much of a big shock as to who, and what he saw. He’d observed the two figures in front of him move and breathe into each other’s mouths in unison. Thrust, pant, climax and embrace. And repeat. It was somehow hypnotic, he couldn’t take his eyes off of them. He didn’t intend to stay long by any means, and yet, he’d never left. 

Maybe after the two of them had, only then he could settle down and make himself decent, barely walking out of the infirmary with a painfully hard erection. Sometimes taking care of it once he would get back to his room undetected. 

Wound down and face to the wall, he has the image painted before his eyes as his dick twitches around his fingertips. His body tensing up and sweat building on his chest and forehead as he feels the warmth in his lower stomach build up gradually. His glans burns in a deep pink as his strokes quicken as quietly as he can manage. He buckles his hips rigidly yet gently when he feels the wave of his orgasm flow, and cups his palm over his urethra before releasing inside. 

Not a chance in the whole world he would ever soil his overpriced, high quality, carefully selected silk, navy blue night robe, no matter how desperate or horny he is. Audible heartbeat pounding in his chest, he looks up to the ceiling, reflecting on his actions, and allowing bliss to completely take over. 

Until the coming of a certain light wind, before early dawn.


	2. Chapter 2

That being the case, he made effort to remain as unsuspicious as before he’d knew or witnessed any of it. It stirred up an odd and uneasy emotion in him to see the faces of men at the breakfast table that you’d witnessed frantically fucking each other the night before.

Running into them on the battlefield, and saying simple and common greetings felt faintly disturbing to an extent. Especially in situations where Medic would come as close as to brush bodies when healing him. The air was thick around him and his suit stuck to his skin.

And ah those frequent medical checkups he had with Medic made things more intense as the doctor touched his body over and again to run tests and other therapeutic work he’d not known much about. 

He’d often mention his heart rate as well.

“Hm, it is a bit irregular, are you having frequent stress Herr Spy?” 

“Not the best this time either, is something bothering you?” 

He’d rush to excuse himself as Medic’s eyes bore holes through him.   
And yet, he’d never miss a meeting. Occasionally he’d stay around much longer and pry on either Heavy or the doctor.

Medic was sometimes more entertaining to watch, in comparison where the Russian would either stay in his seat for maybe hours reading or polish his weapons for approximately the same time. He sometimes wishes he could forget the more detailed memories of Heavy’s “dialouges” in those moments. 

Medic, on the other hand, was neck deep in miscellaneous work. It was more active in the infirmary, even atmosphere wise. It was soothing to watch over the doves as well, they were beautiful birds. They’re soft and loving. It slowly developed into a hobby to see them cuddled up together, preening each other, watching Medic in curiosity. 

Just like him.


	3. Chapter 3

Present time, 21:13 

Sat in the corner of the room, he listens deeply to the soft sounds of Medic putting things away in their places after a well spent meeting with Heavy. Making the bed, fixing the sheets, and wiping familiar stains off of certain pieces of furniture is most of the time the aftermath of a session. After that’s done, he sets his hands on his clipboard this time and works on something that would remain a mystery unless he’d be so daring as to get so close. Silence sometimes filled the room, only broken by the light sounds of Medic’s desk chair and the scratching of ink on paper.

If, he’d allow himself to get closer...

“Say, how long will you keep doing zhis?” 

Spy’s body froze. 

_Was that question for me?_

Medic’s face hadn’t moved even slightly from the clipboard in front of him. He couldn’t tell for sure, yet they were the only people in the room.

_Did he..._

“Herr Spy..”

_Ah._

He wanted to flee. 

He wanted to claw at the centre of the corner he was in and bury himself in the small space in the walls like a hermit, cover his face with his hands and never look at himself nor the other two men ever again. 

Reaching for his watch, he uncloaks before the doctor and stands up to his feet. 

“...I.. .. -my sincere apologies.” His face is burning and his head is hung low.

“Oh, is that so?” 

“Yes, by all means, I am ashamed of my actions and I can only hope for your and Heavy’s forgiveness.”

Medic turns in his chair and rests his face on the palm of his hand.

“How long have you been doing this?”

“...quite some time. I presume, by your phrasing, you haven’t just found out.”   
He slowly gets some courage to look at the other’s face, truthful confessions replacing shame.

“Well-“ He lets a small grin come on his face as he converts his gaze across the room. “-there is one very distinctive thing that gives you away very easily mein Freund.”

Spy is taken back, he did not think he left any evidence when coming in or leaving. He’d known much better than to be careless. 

“And that would be?” 

Medic reverts his gaze back on him again and uncrosses his legs.

“Smoke.” 

_Merde..._

But come to think of it, he’d never been as so bold as to light a cigarette in there, perhaps his teammate was referring to the scent stuck on his attire, rather than direct fume.

He never knew his colleague had such a sharp sense of smell.

He clears his throat before speaking again. 

“Well, as I have said, I can only hope for you and Heavy to accept my apologies, the choice is always yours. Once again, I am very sorry and I shall not bother you any further.”   
He feels he has explained himself well, and readies himself to head to the door.

“Wait.” 

“...yes?” 

“Would you like to have a hand in this engagement?”


	4. Chapter 4

Spy is utterly shocked. Out of all possible responses, one such as this was the least of them in his prediction.

Perhaps there was a misunderstanding? 

“Excuse me, would I, like to have a hand in this?” He wonders if it’s clear to the other that he is mildly confused.

“Ja, as in, are you interested to participate?”

_Oh, so it wasn’t a misunderstanding._

Hopefully his careful approach to his question wasn’t mistaken for ignorance. He’s not too keen on Medic suspecting he doesn’t understand the concept of a clear invitation to a three way intercourse.

“Or, perhaps, that is not the reason for your actions?”

Medic doesn’t break eye contact with him.

“Is there a reason that goes beyond personal matters?”

“What, no, of course not!” Spy defensively exclaims as he wonders what other presumptions the other man could be thinking of. He definitely doesn’t want Medic to suspect he’s an enemy spy, seeking information or the like. Who knows what horror he may face if there was any doubt about it.

“Well, very good then, but you still haven’t answered my question.”

There was unmistakably an immense pressure over him that got in the way.

“Right, I-“

The atmosphere feels menacing, and Medic isn’t helping at all. If anything, he seems to be enjoying himself much more than one normally would in this situation.

“You’re quite shy, aren’t you?” 

_Was he?_

Any other time the answer would most likely have been a no, however his flushed cheeks and sticky gloves would beg to differ.

Medic gets up from his seat and takes a step towards him. 

And suddenly suspense seemed to replace any possible answers or responses he had considered.

“Maybe, you’d like me to decide for you?”

_...would he?_

He’s not quite sure what it was that he heard in the doctor’s tone, but he feels it brought up a sense of mild ease in him, which is by all means unusual because he knows for a fact Medic wouldn’t hesitate to slice right through him if he wanted to.

And yet, he felt that maybe he would like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted to try explore a more passive side of Spy for this one, hope you found it a good read


	5. Chapter 5

The doctor was definitely in range of reach, and he thought he might as well make use of it. Spy slowly grips the other man’s dress shirt, and focuses his eyes on the undone buttons at the collar of a pristine article of clothing usually hidden underneath a common white coat.

He hopes Medic doesn’t find it sudden nor forceful. And although he feels he wants further contact, he still can’t get a word out. So rather, he slowly settles on pressing his forehead onto Medic’s chest. 

“I suppose I can take that as a yes?”

Spy gives him a solemn nod, and breathes in the scent of rubbing alcohol that lingers on the doctor’s shirt. He could almost feel the grin in Medic’s voice.   
The doctor embraces him in a loose hug, and positions his face near the upper side of Spy’s neck.

“It’s alright, I’d like to touch you too.”

He slides his stained hands from Spy’s back towards his chest, then to his throat, and stops them at the facial seam of his mask, a separation between cloth and skin. His face is warm against his fingertips, and he can feel the slight rough sensation of freshly cut facial hair around his lips. 

He gradually moves his face next to the other’s, and presses his lips to Spy’s for a gentle kiss. They don’t pull apart instantly nor make any sudden moves. It’s a soft kiss, rather than a vigorous one, it has its charm.

Medic’s face smells clean, a hint of aftershave perhaps? Maybe, he notes the way his warm breath contrasts the cold feeling of the other. 

Spy lets himself be touched and kissed, and slowly gets to be aware of how Medic gradually starts to lead away from the original spot, and towards his desk chair. Backing into the seat, he pulls Spy along and encourages him to follow as he positions him atop. 

He can see that the other man struggles to adjust his knees around the chair handles in a comfortable manner, and he notes the way they slide to the sides in attempt.

Medic finds it somewhat adorable of him. 

He cups Spy’s face once he assumes he has adjusted himself properly, and sets his mouth at a low point on Spy’s neck. His nose tip pushes up the edges of the mask in the process, unveiling the warm skin that hid underneath his balaclava.

Upward and on, he leaves his mark like a trail.

He gets small, appropriate gasps from Spy as a result, and stops to graze a toothy smile against his skin.

And then he feels his dress shirt being held at the shoulder.

“...Doctor, before we proceed, I must ask-” 

“-...does Heavy know about this?” 

Medic stops everything he’s doing for a second.

_...How considerate of him._

He pulls Spy closer until his own torso is firmly pressed against the other. 

“Yes.”

He makes sure to keep eye contact with Spy as he answers him before touching him any further. 

“...Quite aware actually.” 

He takes Spy’s gloved hand in his, and tugs upward at the sleek leather.

“You need not worry-” 

Black glove halfway off, Medic slithers his hand beneath and into the gap that forms at the centre.

“Because I don’t wish to be dishonest with him...” 

Hand in hand, he interlaces his fingers with Spy’s bare ones.

“And I feel the same when it comes to you.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one contains more Medic pov  
> also uh, i was thinking i should mention this beforehand in case anyone may be sensitive to it? there is some soft rib/bone play in this, but yeah, enjoy

Both gloves on the floor, Medic presses slow and light kisses to the skin on Spy’s palms, fingertips, and his slightly dry knuckles. They appear much thinner whilst being hidden in Medic’s clutch. Gradually, he moves to Spy’s wrists too, and pays special attention to the inner side, where he feels the pulsing warmth against his lips. He moves one hand away to slither it to the inside of Spy’s suit, and strangely succeeds at unbuttoning it from the inner side. He then easily slides down one part of it, and wastes no time in doing the same to the other side.

He feels Spy might mind if he weren’t to properly position his treasured attire, so he carefully sets it down on a nearby handle, front side in.

Spy still fixed in his lap, he takes in the new sight of him in his now noticeable waistcoat, and an unusual slightly distraught dress shirt. He hasn’t yet mentioned anything about how obvious Spy’s erection is, even though it’s been colliding with his abdomen for the past fifteen minutes maybe, he’s sure Spy knows, he’s also sure Spy knows he knows.

Although now might not be the best time to give his groin the attention, he thinks he could perhaps address that situation further on, who knows, maybe Spy won’t show to be as patient as he seems, well, maybe... just maybe.

Having that considered, Medic reaches in at the inner waistband of Spy’s pants, and moves his hands up, lifting the other man’s dress shirt and exposing his abdomen. 

He wonders if Spy’s somewhat disappointed he chose to move upward from there. 

Either way, he’s not protesting.

Spy’s stomach is so warm and soft against his palms, it contradicts the other, more...rough areas of his body, it feels nice to get to touch a softer side of him. Especially in a moment unrelated to a medical purpose. 

He can tell his hands are too cold to match, even if it weren’t for Spy’s tensed shoulders and expression, so he temporarily moves them back to a clothed body part, upper ribcage to be exact.

Medic always paid attention to the way they stuck out when he was laid down on the exam bed, their shape emphasizing with each breath he took. There was a small fixation within him about how aesthetically pleasing they seemed, even beyond just the sight of them. And now he could caress them as much as he wanted to without seeming like an absolute whackjob, even though he was one. 

And so, he digs his thumbs in the gaps between the slim bones, and glides to the sides according to their form. From the front, and around, and then to his back. Spy doesn’t seem to dislike it at all, good, very, very good.

He did seem to slightly twitch once Medic was on a rib near his shoulder, was he ticklish? He hadn’t thought on that subject until now, but if so, that would be...quite cute.

He resists the intrusive urge to take hold of both his hands with one of his, lock them above his head and do as he pleases with him using his free one.

...Perhaps another time. Maybe he needn’t completely discard the mere idea.

Moving aside from that, he feels the temperature of his palms won’t bother Spy any longer since his stomach has been exposed for a decent amount of time, so he sneaks them back in. Now skin on skin, he gets to feel them in another way. They’re much softer than the tips of Medic’s fingers, he could even say they scratch a little. Yet Spy doesn’t object, so he thinks he could go further. He lowers his head so it faces the other’s chest, and brings his lips to a certain rib to his right side, hands holding his shirt above in place.

Always slow first, from there and ascending. The first kisses he gives him are light and gentle, no open mouth or the like for the time being. Even so, Spy still seems to react to it by slightly trembling, he really ought to be ticklish after all these signs. Of course, that’s a subject for another day.

He also wonders how Spy feels about having his nipples touched. One, very easy way to find out.

He tips his head up, and presses a soft smooch nearby his right areola without pulling apart. He then also moves his left hand to Spy’s unattended one. Spy in response, only put his hand up to Medic’s crown in a slow manner. So, a positive opinion would be a sure guess of his. Gradually, he decides he could step up his game a bit and add a bit of tongue as well, maybe some slight teeth too, emphasis on slight. 

To his surprise, Spy took it all. Everything until this moment, he’d not just taken, but seemed to enjoy every part of it. He really was taken back, if he’d need to take a guess at some point, he’d always expect Spy to be more...strict in some way, much more...demanding. He felt he gave off that impression, and not just when it came to him. 

Sometimes people can surprise you.

And sometimes, he’d wonder if the outcome of that very surprise could be as damn good as this one.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a lot of Spy pov, a lot of confusion

As the feeling of pleasant surprise reduced within Medic, a more, exciting one began to arise gradually. All buttons undone, and little garments on, Spy can feel himself grow more eager with each second. Medic is giving him a lot, but somehow it’s not quite enough, he wants Medic to touch him way more, in different ways and different places. They’re sudden, and fortunately still subtle desires. 

He’s also unsure of another thing. He’s undeniably dazed and confused as to what Medic wants, or plans to do with him. 

He could be planning to shoot him with a tranquilizer gun the next second as he’s kissing him, and then proceed to dissect him afterwards with no anaesthesia, and it’d come as no surprise to Spy. He’s consciously swimming in that pool of danger and desire. He’s playing with sex and fear. It’s undoubtedly exciting, yes, yet that excitement could prove to not be his friend too fast, too easy. He knows that. It doesn’t stop him  
.   
Who could say, what sick, demented motives lay behind that man’s actions. 

Who knew, what cruel intentions hid in plain sight.

Gruesome goals, that went beyond Spy’s ability to imagine.

...Maybe he’s overthinking this, maybe Medic could show to be a man capable of direct and clean objectives...surely, it doesn’t sound like the most probable of ideas to his ears.

But if that guess was somewhat nearer to the truth, where would that, less hazardous one get him? 

Perhaps Medic really did fancy him in a clean and straightforward manner. Why wouldn’t he? He earned any and all affection after all. It’d make sense, maybe he patently wished to be concerned with Spy. He didn’t know how long Medic knew about his “hobby” after all. He never really gave him a clear answer to it.

Was he considering how Spy watched him. Did he ever imagine exactly what Spy was doing and looking at whilst being fervidly thrust into. Maybe after the encounter, did he sometimes expect to “accidentally” brush against him, catch him red handed. Was he deliberating on how to approach , how to pursue him. Was he glad to finally have his hands on him. Did it make him happy when Spy agreed to everything he’d done by now. Did he wish to be able to touch him like he was able to do so now. Was he as grateful as Spy was for it, and was he thinking about how lovely it’d be that soon he could reduce Spy to a flushed mess under him, breathless and tear-eyed, whenever he pleased.

And then it struck him, until then he’d exclusively thought of it the other way around. At the rate of it, Medic could most likely be interested in just another sexual release. Purely get himself off, then tell Spy to get the fuck out of his office. Well, surely not in that tone, but still, it’d be downright awful. He may, take care of Spy for the sake of it, but they were much different circumstances. Of course, that one doesn’t come even close to compare to his former horrid ideas by any means, but it’d still leave him feeling absolutely horrible. 

He expects so at the very least. And why was that?

He doesn’t know.

He didn’t love Medic, he didn’t love him. He didn’t love anyone.

And yet, it hurt him. 

It hurt him quite a good amount, and he’s searching for the root of it. He suspects that it leads to a wish that Medic should feel that way towards him. Medic to want him. Medic to need him. Medic to be hurt by the idea of Spy not caring about him. Medic to want to fuck him senselessly for the sake of who he is. 

All those former desires proved to come back stronger, kept going further and flourishing. He felt in a way unthankful, but that wouldn’t stop him. 

He’s much grateful for even getting this far, no doubt about it.

Then again, his heart sinks in his chest and his blood boils. Medic had more power. Medic had the advantage, not solely advantage. 

He had advantage over Spy.

He had power over Spy.

He _hated_ it.

Why did he give him that power.

The power to do whatever _he_ pleased with him. Touch him any way he liked. Use him any way that Spy let him. How would he cope, knowing someone who fucked him was simply interested in seeing how far he could get with him. How _easy_ it was to get in bed with him. How _easy he was._ Flaunt to himself, or even worse, to someone else, on how unclassy and indecisive it was of Spy to settle on being used _just like **that.**_

To barely walk out of there fully untended and pitiful, just like before, except this time it’d be another story.

It felt absolutely terrible, it felt sick, he felt sick. He’d feel unwanted, he’d feel used, he’d feel horrible and so confused as if he wasn’t enough already.

Although he wouldn’t go as far as to deny that there was a very small part of him that said that would actually be rather...alluring.

And deep down he hated himself for it.

But the damage had been done. 

What was once merely just a thought, had now fully grown into a mirage in front of his eyes.

The so intrusive vision of Medic having Spy go down on him and refrain him from touching himself. Or control his head with one hand and use him like that, already face fucked and thrown away once he’s done with him, all without even glancing at Spy for even a moment until his climax. Have no care of what state he’s left in and how he’d feel.  
Would he then doze off on his own bed like lovers would do after a well spent evening, except discard and forget about Spy entirely....surely he wouldn’t do that to Heavy.

Oh.

Oh **fuck.**

He wants to go back. 

That’s enough, he wants to go back.

Go on and slowly crawl back in that cold corner of the room and cover himself, safe and sound and undiscovered and **uninvolved.**

Jerk it by himself back in the comfort of his scrawny isolated room without any of this.

But all he can do is melt in Medic’s lap. 

He’s long lost awareness of what was actually being done to him and what he was doing in return, if he was moving at all.

Wonder what Medic thought of it.

Wonder if he liked having power and advantage over Spy, did it make him happy, did it fulfil him.

It sent a sharp spark to his groin and a heavy strike to his chest. 

And that’s where he was certain, that no part of him could deny that one.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey hey happy holidays, I wanted to publish this chapter after the long break i took, so it can be a somewhat of a gift for anyone who's still interested in this work, anyhow again merry christmas/happy holidays and enjoy yourselves

_Next evening 20:27_

What had gone on?

It lingers in his memory as such a small thing.

All his questions, all his wonder and tension and stress. He can recall them as something so much clearer than what actually went on, it went so fast, so effortlessly, so, so easy compared to what he thought.

It went lovely, every part went positively great.

Medic didn’t hurt him. Not even in a sexual way, one, where he wouldn’t have even minded to say the least.

Medic’s mouth on his chest had escalated into one at his collarbone, then throat, and at one point lowered back downwards where he originally started from. Then a pause. A pause where Spy was prompted to get some sense back and return to reality, where he was being raised upwards and nudged until his back laid almost flat against the top of Medic’s desk, mostly unaware of how he automatically set his elbows down to avoid discomfort.

He was there and watched, felt and heard his button and zipper being undone. And following that were his pants, slid down slowly and alongside his silk briefs. Medic had chosen to completely discard them on the right leg, and leave the garments where they were on the left. He’d not touched neither his dress shoes nor his sock garters. They were both left undisturbed in their original places, as Medic took hold of both his ankles to fix them to the chair handles. Knees bent and propped on his elbows, Spy had the sight of the doctor’s face loosely pressed to his inner thigh, while one of his hands had made its way to grip at his right hip.

He remembers Medic asking, he knows this. 

“You wish to continue this way, don’t you?-”

“-Yes.” 

It was the clearest, fastest, and most decisive answer he’d given through the entire evening. And somehow that really put him to shame. 

But the next thing he remembers, was Medic moving much closer until his face came parallel to his length, and his free hand had come to press at his tip. 

Right, he was there and settled against his desk, where he was partly stripped of his clothing, and another man’s face was at his crotch. 

He took in the sensation of skin to skin finally after almost forgetting about how aroused and desperate and hard he actually was. Medic’s fingers just effortlessly glided on his glans, wet and shiny by his own semen. It was gentle and it felt sharp and delicate on the small area, all until Medic had put it aside, to instead take in Spy’s hand in his, and lead it at the top of his head. 

Unsure if there was anything else being implied, he settled on simply resting his hand there, rather than grip harshly. 

Then, an entirely different contact of tongue to the underside of his shaft. It made Spy hiss and shiver, his knees tremble and tighten against Medic’s shoulders.  
Said doctor progressed upward from there and on, right hand to Spy’s hip and the other slowly came to support his act at his groin. 

Spy was absolutely at loss for words, not that he would’ve said anything even if he was not, but a different point of course.

He took his time, he had a specific way of doing it as he hadn’t immediately taken in the entirety of Spy’s cock in his mouth. Of course until he did, maybe 7 minutes already in if he’d try keep track. And oh did it make him peel his lower spine off the desk and ankles collide faster than you would get a smack out of Soldier upon badmouthing America.

He knows he took a moment there to see himself from a third person’s perspective. 

He wasn’t filthy.

His black dress shoes delicately clicked together behind Medic’s back. 

He wasn’t indecisive. 

His left hand was to his open mouth right where he wanted it.

And he didn’t pull on the doctor’s hair, at least not until Medic sped up and went as far to hit his jaw to Spy’s pelvis and his throat tightened right at that small place he just so liked.

Not until he was an absolute quivering mess, covered in his own sweat and clawing against the squeaky wooden desk top.

He choked on his own breath.

He finished in Medic’s mouth and really hoped he didn’t mind because it all went too sudden and too easy.

Next thing he knew, Medic was on his feet and encouraging him to embrace in a shaky hug.

A kiss, following that, where Spy can taste his own cum, and where he reconsidered if he lived up to his former words.

“You know-you were quite fun.”

And a compliment where he feels he hadn’t done too much to deserve to receive it.

He watched as Medic gradually pulled apart, and took a step or two before gathering his suit and gloves to finally present them to Spy.

“Sadly, that’s all I can offer tonight.”

“-No, no, thank you, this..was a wonderful meeting.” 

He earned a wide grin from the other man, as he put on his suit and fixed his pants before getting on his feet and touching ground after who knows what hour.

“Well, it seems I’ve overstayed my welcome, I’ll be going now, thank you again.”

It seemed a little rude to turn his back to Medic there but he was convinced anything relating to walking backwards would be beyond absurd.

He gave the doctor a small wave goodbye upon reaching the door.

“And Spy-“  
“ -if this went well for you and you’re keen on a step forward, be here at eleven o’clock tomorrow evening.”

-

He stands before the infirmary door, fastens his necktie and straightens his posture.

_22:58 pm_

Two more minutes, he’ll surely step in.

Unknowing of what’s waiting on the other side nor how he’s going to walk out of there tonight.


End file.
